


Rain

by tangerinabina_de_archanea



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Mild Angst, Post canon, i've only seen the anime so this probably is not compliant with the manga or the light novel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:55:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23924236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangerinabina_de_archanea/pseuds/tangerinabina_de_archanea
Summary: Shion opens the window when it rains.
Relationships: Nezumi/Shion (No. 6)
Kudos: 20





	Rain

It’s raining again from the skies above what used to be No.6. The Moon Drop howls, and Shion jolts awake at the sound, long buried memories awakening with him. No, buried isn’t the right word. They haunt his every waking moment, but he looks the other way, because the person in those memories doesn’t haunt his side. Why bother looking when there’s no one to look at?

He stands and stretches, feeling the dull ache in his side that’s been there ever since the correctional facility. Elyurias may have saved his life, but she didn’t bother to save him the pain; just another small revenge, he supposes. His hair is still white, and his skin is still marked, and his side still aches. That much hasn’t changed.

Outside his window, much has. This is it. His third option. The wall is down, and yet he still feels hollow when he looks outside his window. He almost considers throwing it open and screaming as he once did an eternity ago (or at least that’s what it feels like), but he doesn’t want to wake his mother or the baby. Besides, no amount of screaming will bring Nezumi climbing into his open window, not when it rests upon land that was once No.6. What would be the point?

The West Block and No.6 are one now. There is no inside or outside. The land is more lively than it has ever been, pollinated happily by the parasitic bees that hatched from the city, and the people feel smaller now. There are less of them, to be certain; the bees that feed upon the flowers and trees killed most of them. It makes the city unsettlingly empty, compared to how it used to be, when the hustle and bustle of the streets would sometimes keep him up at night. Now only the rain wakes him, and the Moon Drop’s cry.

He opens the window.

The people of No.6 were largely unaware of what a hell their city was beneath the heavenly appearance. They were innocents, just like Shion had always believed, who never dreamed of the horrors their beloved city had visited upon the world, and there still are, even as they struggle to accept the shocking truth. Most welcome the people of West Block with open arms, and some even embrace family and friends and lovers long thought dead or lost. Resentment still clings on all sides, but it eases by the day, and those who would fan the flames of hatred fall silent, whether by force or by choice. 

Of course, some still cling to the ideals of the No.6 of past days, mostly those in their twilight years or those most loyal to the state.  _ Things were always working as they were, so why change them?  _ these people ask.  _ Why should we question No.6? It has always taken care of us. Why should we take in those who were exiled? They were taken away for a reason. Why should we listen to you, and not the government that has kept us safe and prosperous for our entire lives? _ They continue to wear their blinders for their own benefit and refuse to see how others have suffered, for the affairs of others have never been  _ their _ concern. Why should they start caring now that the wall is down?

Some of the people of West Block are resistant as well. Why should they care about the people that murdered them, and scorned them, and treated them as waste to be disposed of? Why should they get along with No.6? No.6 does not exist anymore, and yet that is all they see; they do not see individuals, but a single miasma of hatred in which faces blend together into the face of a city that rejected and abused them. They think like Nezumi did, in black and white. Friend and enemy, with nothing in between.

Still, hearts can be softened, and minds can be changed, and peace can be reached. Shion sees it every day with his own eyes. If Nezumi could see it, perhaps he would change his mind as well.

_ Nezumi _ .

Instinctively, Shion reaches upward to touch his lips, as if he can replicate the memory of Nezumi’s kiss before he left. 

_ You’re going to be fine. _

Will he?

_ We’ll meet again _ . 

Will they? Would Nezumi be willing to return to this new city, suspended in a life somewhere between No.6 and the West Block, built upon a foundation of the corpses of thousands, of Forest Folk and citizens of No.6 alike?

The baby begins to cry downstairs, and he remembers that there are more pressing matters to worry about, more important things that need his attention.

He closes the window. 


End file.
